For The Love Of The Demon
by BluemoonMusicGirl
Summary: Bree Delune isn't an especially happy child. Her mother was murdered when she was ten, and her father is constantly drunk. She has a friend that hides in her dreams, until one night, he shows himself. She is delighted to have a way out of her life, but nothing comes without a price, especially from mysterious boys with deadly green eyes.
1. Prologue: Bree Delune

**A/N: **Heya! It's Bluemoon here! I'm really really super sorry that I left any readers hanging. I am going to update soon, but I'm absolutely SWAMPED at school. Once we go on break, I will hopefully be updating at least every other day. **Edited as of January 26th, 2015**

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><p>Prologue:<p>

There has always been a figure that haunted my dreams, ever since I was a little girl. A presence that lingered in the darkness at the edges of my consciousness- ever watchful, quiet, calculating, and listening to everything. I had no inkling if they were real, or not. But to be perfectly honest, it didn't matter. When my mother was murdered in front of me at age ten, I felt completely devoid of emotion. My heart shattered into millions of unfix-able pieces; that is when they first came. My father started to drink with increasing frequency following her burial, and now spent most nights passed out in the front room of our townhouse. The neighbors don't care as long as we're quiet, and we likewise.

Back to the friend: the one in my mind. That's right, I have a boy that comes to me in my dreams. He never shows his face, or speaks, but I know he is there. Every night as I drift in that odd state between waking and dreaming, he finds me. He listens as I talk. He never asks questions, or makes a peep, but he is ever-present, and comforting none the less.

The night he finally gave me a single clue to who he was, was the eve of my seventeenth birthday. I had stayed up till the large grandfather clock declared it to be midnight, then finally retired to my solitary room on the third floor. Our shop lay on the first, and our lodgings began at the second. The cool air flowing from my open window gently stirred my long, heavy, wavy golden locks. I closed my stormy blue eyes in bliss at the sense of peace that washed over me in the swath of moonlight emitting from the full orb in the navy, star sprinkled sky.

It felt good, like a gift from the earth to me on my birthday. One year closer to having to be a grown up. Shuddering at the thought, I pushed away from the window, and flopped on my bed. The ancient springs creaked under my muscular weight, but I just rolled my eyes, rubbing my hands on my jeans tiredly. In a fatigued state, I lay back without taking my boots off. The fog covered my mind, and he appeared.

Shock filled me when I realized I could see his eyes. They were a frighteningly vivid emerald, like they were plucked from an artist's palate. "Will you come with me, Bree...?" They whispered quietly. I felt my dream-self nod. He disappeared, and I was left to wake moments later in my bed, wondering if my mind had finally collapsed.

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><p><strong>AN: **Alrighty, so, what'cha think? Good? Bad? Keep going? Please, please, please with whipped cream, gummie bears- okay, whatever you want- review, favorite, follow. Till I get some time to write again, Bluemoon: over and out!


	2. Chapter 1: Dreams, Or Reality?

**A/N: **Yes! I finally did it!And we aren't on break till about a week from now! YAY! Here it is: Chapter One of _For The Love Of The Demon! _Enjoy! I'm thinking about making a playlist for this story on my profile, so keep checking that as I will add songs as the come to mind. Alrighty, my wonderful readers, enjoy!

As my consciousness slowly returned, I shivered in my now cold room. Perhaps having left the window open wasn't the smartest of decisions.

I sighed, rolled out of bed; walked to my old, heavy, oak dresser to grab my water that sat atop the structure. The water had frosted the outside of the glass, pricking my palm with how uncomfortably cold it was. My brown, form-fitting tank-top I wore under my long sleeved, thin cotton, navy blouse was riding up slightly on my back. I grabbed the hem, as I'd done a thousand times, and tugged it back down over the top of my jeans.

A sharp breeze made me turn around to the window, intending to close the infernal contraption. I had left my back to it for a good three minutes, and it had been open for a few hours. Cautiously, I crept across my chilled wood flooring to the large bay window. I reached up to grab the bottom of the window, and a strong arm wrapped around my waist from behind, their calloused hand slamming down over my mouth while they pulled me off the bench. I jerked my elbow back into their stomach, earning slightly uncomfortable growl. I tried to twist free, and the held me against their self till I stopped struggling.

Soft lips brushed the back of my ear, making goosebumps raise all over my body. "You, are mine." A slightly British, boy's voice, whispered in my ear. I could feel from my back pressed against their stomach that they had well toned abs, and their arms were stronger than mine. I lifted heavy boxes all day, and hacked at metal. Most people stronger than me when also immensely older. My attacker was a little taller, and he had leather cuffs on his wrists. I kept my head up, so I couldn't see their feet, but I was tensing for a fight. "Alright, Bree, time to ask questions..." They slowly removed their hand from my mouth, almost teasingly.

"What do you want with me?" I responded, making my anger seep into my voice. They were trying to scare me, I'd scare them first. I wasn't going to dissolve into to tears, and beg them to leave. Hell no. I would throw them out the window myself. Almost as if he sensed what I was thinking, the boy's grip tightened just enough to be uncomfortable on my waist. I knew he could feel the hard muscles through my shirt, and could probably see the strength in my shoulders. They knew I was dangerous, so they probably were worse if they had the nerve to infiltrate my home like this.

_Stay calm, Bree. Just keep them distracted while you think up a way out._I told myself, taking a deep breath. He chuckled as if it was obvious.

"Off to Neverland, Bree." He muttered, and I swore I could feel him smirking. With a shove, I was tossed out my window, tumbling down three stories. A shriek ripped from my throat in surprise more than fear, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Seconds passed and I hadn't hit the ground. I felt the direction of the air around me shift, and opened my eyes instantly. I was being towed into the sky like a doll by a floating spectral shadow. It looked like a person, but was see through, and all black, with glowing blue eyes. The shadow had locked its- fingers? - around my wrist in a bruising hold. We were moving impossibly fast, and I held still. If I fought back this thing might decide to drop me, then I'd be dead for sure.

This night was a lot to handle. Magically appearing boys, voices in my head talking to me, and a shadow dragging my towards a star. Was I dead? Had I hit the pavement, and this was some angel dragging me to the after life? My mind reeled with questions as the air tightened, thinning till I had no oxygen. Panicking, I gasped for air, and saw my vision going dark.

Suddenly air was shoved into my lungs like I had been slammed into an ocean of it. I took deep, greedy lungfuls. My air rasped in my throat, probably from the screech I had emitted as I fell. As we began to fly over crystal clear, blue ocean waters with crashing waves, and sparkling sea foam, I thought about my situation.

Kidnapped by a spirit didn't seem too bad, considering all I had at home was a drunk father who didn't give a damn if I lived, or dropped dead in the streets one night. I doubted he'd notice. But, my customers would. Where would the people go for their armor, and weapons now? Without the oddly clothed blacksmith to make them, everyone would be ruined when the witches came. I murmured a quick apology to the villagers, squinting in the dark as the shadow floated above an island.

He swooped just low enough so I wouldn't break anything if I fell, and threw me roughly to the sand, and grit. "Why are you doing this?" I shouted, wincing as I landed on a stick against my back. I stood, a little unbalanced by the change of scenery, and suddenly being on land again. The blood rushed to my head, making my vision go spotted for a few seconds.

"My master has called for you. He has ordered you come." It answered, its voice sliding over me like another ghost. I clenched my fists.

"You can't do this! I had a family, a job! I can't be summoned like some mutt!" I snarled, my nails biting my palms with half-moon marks. The wind, and sea spray, tossed my curls away from my face, and I narrowed my eyes to keep any sand out of them.

"Master said bring the girl. Shadow brought the girl." He responded, as if I was the one not making any sense. Without another word, Shadow flew away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Growling in anger, I kicked the stick I had landed on, sending it flying across the beach into the nearby jungle. Deciding it was best to find shelter in case something else wanted to drag me off again, I headed in the same direction I had kicked the drift wood. I was mindful that I still had my mother's dagger in my boot in case anything jumped out at me.

Determination lit my storm blue eyes, and I set my hand against one of the gnarled trunks to climb over a fallen tree. I quickly saw that the were two completely different types. One belonged in the rain forest, the other in a dry, English wood. A sense of mounting uneasy rose in me, and I slowly slid off the tree. I wasn't alone here...

"I know you're there. Come out." I demanded, keeping my voice surprisingly even despite the jolt of fear I was experiencing. Almost like magic, a six foot tall boy, with thin, pale, sandy hair, braided with feathers, a long scar coming from his hair line, going diagonally left to below his eye, appeared. His grin was visible, even from fifteen feet away. I shrank back, eyeing the large club he had balanced on his shoulder with unease.

"Greetings, Bree. Pan welcomes you to Neverland." He spoke. His voice wasn't smooth, but it was less nerve wracking than the boy's in my room. I sensed this boy had power, but not as much as my attacker. No, no where near that much.

"Who are you, and how do you know me?" I growled, my hands shaking slightly. I clenched my fists again to hide it.

The boy laughed, "I'm Felix. One of Pan's Lost Boys. Everyone here will know you soon enough. Pan sent me to retrieve you from Shadow."

"You didn't answer my question." I shook my head.

"I don't have to." He growled, the joking demeanor vanishing. "You can make this hard, or easy. Your choice, of course."

I took a step back. "I'm not going any where with you. I'm going home." I snapped, narrowing my eyes.

Felix sighed like he had expected this. "You better start running, Bree. Pan likes fighters."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I didn't care if I was running into a trap, but I had to get away. I darted through the forest, weaving past trees, and thorns, bushes, broken branches; scattered boulders. It was disorienting to say the least. I heard a chorus of war cries filled with excitement coming from where Felix was. Great, there was loads of them! I pushed myself to go faster, and I heard them bursting through the under brush after me.

I needed to hide, or they'd catch me. There was more if them, they knew this island better than I did, and they probably had food, lanterns, and weapons. I couldn't outrun them forever. Fear reared its ugly head again, and a spear flew by my head, lodging itself into a near by tree. With a yelp, I turned abruptly to the right, heading deeper into the woods. My lungs burned, and I gasped for air, but kept going. I could run from the king's guards; I could run from these guys.

Once their shouts had died down a little, I leaned against a tree. I set my hands on my knees, panting. I stabbed my fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes.

"Well, well. Look what we have here..." I froze, recognizing the person instantly without even looking up. It was the boy from my room. "Bree, look at me when I'm talking to you." He growled forcefully, his fingers slipping under my chin, and forcing it up.

My defiant gaze was met with calculating, breath-taking emerald eyes. I felt my heart lock up. Quickly, I straightened to my full height- 5'8". He was at least an inch taller than me, but I didn't care. He had soft looking brown hair, and a smirk on his lips as he assessed me. I squirmed under his scrutiny. "I chose well." He tilted my face gently, but his fingers had enough pressure to warn me he wouldn't tolerate me not doing what he wanted.

I narrowed my eyes, pulling my chin out of his grasp. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snapped, running my palm over my chin like I could wipe off his touch. He chuckled. "Did I forget to introduce myself?" He arched one eye brow. I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. The boy closed his eyes for a second, wetting his lips like what he was about to say was the most important thing I'd ever hear. "I'm Peter, Peter Pan. And you're on my island, Trinket."


	3. Chapter 2: Wake Me Up

**A/N: **I owe everyone a **HUGE **apology for being so lazy, and not updating (Don't tell Pan I said sorry. He'd get mad). I had Finals this week at school, and was swamped with chores this weekend, but I'm staying up late to give all you lovely people the uber-long chapter you deserve. Again, I'm really sorry, and off we go!

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I bit into my lower lip apprehensively. So this was Pan. I had been pouring my heart out to a maniac that kidnaps seventeen year old girls since I turned ten. That's seven years he's gathered information on me. Seven years that I had to make up for quickly. It was time I knew my enemy. Inhaling deeply, I cocked my head to one side. "So, you're Peter Pan. Not as impressive as I'd imagined." I drawled, shrugging.

Pan chuckled, a small smile splitting his handsome features; darkening them. I forced my expression to remain impassive. I couldn't let him in anymore. I had to survive, and this boy was dangerous. He would use my weaknesses to his advantages. "Don't dismiss me so quickly, Trinket. You'll soon find that Neverland is as deadly as it is entrancing if you don't watch yourself." Pan locked his emerald eyes on me, and I wished I could run again. I was certain he had been warning me to watch my mouth, not just to keep my eyes open.

"I'll remember that." I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest to hide their shaking. "What are you going to do to me, then, Peter? Lock me up? Starve me to death? Let your Boys chase me till I drop?"

"First things first, Trinket. You will address me as _Pan. _Secondly, you will follow my rules, no matter what. If you can manage that, then y-"

"First things first, _Peter." _I mocked, narrowing my eyes. "My name is Bree, not _Trinket_, and I won't be ordered about like some maid." The second I saw Pan's expression I regretted being so bold. He would make me pay for it. His eyes seemed to become black voids as they narrowed, anger flooding them; his smile turned into a predatory smirk. In the length of time it took me to feel fear, he had slapped me so forcefully that I backed into a tree, my hand pressed against my face in shock.

"Speak to me like that again, Trinket, and a bruise will be the least of your problems." He growled, having come close enough to whisper in my ear. His lips were soft as the brushed the sensitive skin, and I forced myself to remain still, dropping my hand to my side. Almost as if he had decided that I was sufficiently warned, and nothing had happened at all, he gently brushed my heavy, gold hair to one side. When his hand lightly brushed my neck, electricity shot through me. "It'll heal soon. By morning you won't even feel it any longer." I felt myself tremble slightly as he inhaled the smell of the flowers I grew off my neck, his breath raising goosebumps all over me. "Sweet peas, and orchids..." He mumbled to himself, pulling back to look me in the eyes. "Are you ready to see the camp, Trinket?"

I wet my lips nervously, locking my knees so I wouldn't fall over. "If it means food, then yes." I replied, trying to recover some of the anger I had previously felt towards him. If he could disarm me that easily, who knew how long I would be able to survive on Neverland! Smirking, He held out his hand. I raised my chin slightly, my breath quickening as my storm blue eyes darted from his hand to his eyes.

"Come on, Bree." He sighed, nodding to his extended hand. "I won't hurt you...yet." Not at all reassured, but knowing he would get mad if I didn't accept- and I had to stay alive to escape- I set my shaking hand in his strong, calloused one. "Nervous, are we?" He arched an eyebrow, looking amused. I bit my lip, refusing to answer. I wasn't nervous, I was scared. He knew everything about me, and I was entirely dependent on him for food now that I had been stupid, and ran from Felix. He wrapped an arm around my waist, and leaned to whisper in my ear. "Here we go..."

I felt the air thin around us, and the world blurred. I tightened my grip on his hand reflexively; it probably hurt, considering my nails were digging reddening half-moon marks into his skin. I almost lost what meager food I had eaten that day, and I leaned against him, squeezing my eyes shut tight. After what felt like hours, but could have been seconds, the air returned to my lungs, and the world around Peter and I stopped spinning. I peeled my eyelids open, my heart racing- though from the teleportation, or Peter, I couldn't tell. A moonlit camp bustling with life unfolded before me. I gasped in surprise, my lips parting slightly. A monstrous bonfire roared in the center of the camp, with handmade ropes dangling from the towering trees surrounding the clearing. At least twenty, or more, Lost Boys populated the area, some sword fighting, others playing various games with each other. A good sum of them were dancing around the fire, beating a pair of bamboo sticks together to a hidden beat. They whooped, somersaulting over logs, sitting Boys, and rocks.

"Miraculous, isn't it?" Pan grinned, glancing down at me.

"It's incredible." My mouth turned up at the corners: not quite a smile, but close.

"It could be your home if you just listen to me, Trinket." He started walking towards a tall boy that was seated near the fire, almost in the center of the dancing. His hood covered his face, but he had broad shoulders, and a telltale club resting at his feet. Pan spoke with him quickly, and I saw Felix's head turn to me once, then back to Pan. "Bree, get over here!" Pan called, gesturing to his side. I huffed in annoyance, but hurried to weave through the gaggle of dancing boys. As I passed through their ranks, I would guess that the youngest was no less than eight, and the oldest -Pan- being seventeen, eighteen at the most. They covered every race, and age, under the moon, all coming from different backgrounds, and with their own unique story to tell. "I trust you've already met my lieutenant, Felix?"

I glared at Felix resentfully, crossing my arms. "Yeah. He tried to 'collect me from Shadow', as if." I growled. Felix grinned good naturedly, like it was all just a game to him. I felt immediate hate for this particular Lost Boy, and his self-assured, over confident grin. He thought he was better than me. I clenched my fist so it wouldn't collide with his jaw.

"Right," Pan continued, acting oblivious to the tension in the air, and the venom in my words. "He'll be watching you while I go deal with a little problem on the island."

"What?!" I blurted out, whirling on Pan. "You can't be serious!"

Pan arched an eyebrow, smirking. "If you'd rather starve, and wait in my hut till I return..."

I growled in frustration, knowing I had been beat. In a huff, I sat down on a log. "Fine. I'll stay here."

"Wise decision. I can't have you dying on me, can I?" Pan tapped underneath my chin, smirking as I narrowed my eyes. Pan disappeared, like the air had swallowed him, and I sighed. I felt so caged, like I was a pawn in an afternoon game that meant nothing to the players. I was at the mercy of Pan, and his 'deadly' island. The island would kill me, if Pan didn't first.

Wetting my lips, I turned slightly. "Alright, Felix. Where's the food?" I asked, forcing myself to sound nice, even though I wanted to throw a fit for being forced to sit here, and be watched like a small child.

Felix grinned again, gesturing to a spit near the bonfire. "Take a piece, Bree. You're so thin, I doubt you rarely get a steady meal back home. Rough family life?" He scrunched his nose in mock sympathy. I clenched my jaw, reaching over to tear a leg off the smoking bird. Trying to act like this wasn't the first bit of meat I'd had in a few weeks, I sank my teeth into the seasoned flesh. A multitude of delicious flavors hit my tongue, and I closed my eyes in appreciation. "You'd be surprised how much you can make just by wishing for it here." That had to be the most I'd ever heard him utter since I'd been here. I wondered if he usually talked a lot.

"Whahp?" I mumbled around a mouthful of savory chicken. I cocked my head, wiping a dribble of juice off my chin, blushing slightly in embarrassment. Felix scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Neverland is magic, Bree. You wish for something, and it appears- usually."

"Usually...?" I repeated, furrowing my brow. Now that I had some information about my prison, I wasn't going to stop. I had to learn more.

Felix grinned again. He wouldn't tell me anything more.

I took another bite of my chicken, staring at the fire. Magic. Suddenly, wandering about the forest seemed much less appealing. "Where'd Pan go?"

Felix chuckled. "What, scared I'll try something? I'm not stupid, Bree. Pan would give me a fate worse than death if I touched what was his." Confused, I furrowed my brow again, gnawing on the bone I had picked clean in the few minutes.

"Alright, so I'm mostly safe, if Pan doesn't decide to kill me. And, no, I wasn't worried in the first place. I asked where Pan was." I repeated, slightly irritated. Was no one on this island going to help me _at all_?

"He went to deal with a problem. He'll be back soon." Felix shrugged.

"Great," I sighed, wiping my hands off on my hunting pants. I refused to wear dresses, and thankfully the tailor pitied me after my mother died, so he accepted that I was odd, and ignored it. "Thanks for nothing, Felix." I headed for the outer ring of activity in the camp.

"Where do you think you're going?" Felix called, a hint of panic in his voice.

"To go jump off a cliff." I called over my shoulder, rolling my eyes.

"B-but, you ca-" He jumped to his feet, starting to follow me.

"I was being sarcastic, smart one. I just need to be alone for awhile. I'm not desperate enough to kill myself." Silently, I added, _I have to survive for Mom. She'd expect that much of me. _"Don't follow me, Felix." I sighed, pushing through the Boys to the woods. The varying trees mingled to create an oddly enticing scent, much like Pan himself. I shook my head, scolding myself for even starting that thought. Pan saw me as a toy, getting any emotions would make it messy, and I had to stay focused, no matter how badly I wanted to lose myself in his eyes. I couldn't let Neverland wear me down till I wasn't myself anymore. I had been kidnapped, and was now held prisoner. I owed it to Mother to get myself out.

I had been wondering around for at least twenty minutes before I found a small cove. A smooth, flat slab of natural rock provided a sitting place, and the rest of the rock had been hollowed out to form a cave, filled with water. I clutched my knees to my chest, leaning against the cave wall. I allowed a few tears to slip, finally realizing what I had lost: my freedom. The sound of the water lapping at the spacious ledge I sat on that was only a few inches above the sea water itself lulled me into a sense of safety. This place wasn't corrupted by Pan's malice. I decided then and there that it would be mine, and took out the only thing I had left of my mother from my boot. A slim, 10" dagger that was strapped to my calf, polished to an oil slick black. I began the lengthy process of carving my initials into the rock face. "B. N. N." I whispered, finishing off the last letter. Now the secret beach ledge was mine. Satisfied, I slid my silver-hilt dagger back into its sheath, laying on my stomach to watch the stars' reflections on the water.

I can't be sure how long it was, but I eventually fell into a fitful sleep on the cool stone. I felt like a thousand knives were being driven into my body, the heated blood pooling over onto the previously cold ledge. I struggled against biting ropes that laced my wrists together, and bamboo bars that entrapped me. Poison was dripped into my wounds, and the skin puckered into ugly purple, and violent red in protest. I screamed till my throat was raw, and the pain became a dull roar in the back of my mind. I saw the drunken, angry face of my 'father', and the disappointed face of my mother, shaking her head at me in disgust. I felt the tears tracking their way through my blood coated, and bruise ridden face. I felt suffocated, like the air had left my lungs, and dizzy as if the world was spinning with my thoughts. I screamed for them to kill me, to make it end. And yet, through the haze, an angel found me. His wings spread behind him, massive, and jet black, he scooped me up in his strong arms; cradled me to his chest. I remained limp, for any movement was agony. My head rested in the crook of the angel's neck, inhaling the smell of bamboo, a musty forest, and the sharp smell of blood. He gently moved my arms to encircle his neck, taking care to hold me steady, and we rose into the air.

"Wake up, Bree. _Wake up_." A firm voice urged me, brushing my sweaty bangs out of my face.

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**A/N: **Alrighty, I finally did it! Chapter 2 is up for you lovelies! Thank you all so much for the continued support, I never though my story would get this many views. 1,910! Thank you guys, I can't believe it! Thank you to **CatchingDandelions** and **Sra. Lahey** for adding this to your favorites and alerts, it means so much to me. Also thank you to **SmileyKatie **for adding this to your alerts. G'night everyone! Bluemoon, out!


	4. Chapter 3: Sparring

**A/N: *ducks from flying objects* I'm really sorry guys, I should have updated sooner, and I feel REALLY bad about it, but my life has been crazy lately, and I'm dealing with a lot of family problems. However, my mom, little brother, and I are moving into a new house soon, so I super pumped for that! Here is the much over due Chapter 3 of ****_Demon. _****Also, I am going back and slightly tweaking the previous chapters, so check on them, okay? Thank you for bearing with me guys, I love you all! Slight foul language in this chapter, so, yeah, fair warning and all. :)**

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><p>Disoriented, I struggled to push myself up on my elbows. "Easy, Trinket." A voice whispered softly, gently pushing me back down onto the cot. I groaned in annoyance, but the spinning in my head seemed to agree with them. Through the haze, I faintly remembered being carried, and that only <em>one <em>person called me 'Trinket', but these hands were far too gentle to be Peter Pan, and that voice held too much emotion. Spent from even the small effort, I relaxed against the cot, grateful for the pillow under my head, and the darkness behind my lids just waiting to envelope me.

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><p>Shadows of colors danced on the black canvas of my dreams, twirling, and intertwining to form blurred shapes. Murmurs of voices in deep tones tickled my ears, and a haze coated my senses. I had no clue as to where I was, or what was occurring about me, but I felt sweaty, and trapped. Anxiously, I kicked my legs, flailed my arms, and fell to the ground. I winced, peeling my eyes open cautiously, the soft, white, cotton blanket that had previously been tucked around me now spiraled around my stomach and leg. Clutching my tender head, I shoved the blanket off roughly, my gaze darting about for my boots. How had I fallen asleep? Where was I? The momentary disorientation clouded my common sense, and as I glanced around I almost believed the walls were the inside of an ancient, gargantuan tree. Wait- a <em>tree?<em>

Apprehensive, I scooped the covers off the floor, tossing them back onto the bamboo, and canvas cot I had been on. My dark brown boots lay on the floor -presumably the instruments that had bruised my thigh when I fell. I quickly yanked them on, knotting the laces tight over my fitted, pale tan, cargo pants. My long sleeve, navy, peasant blouse was slightly muddied, but I ignored everything my awakening senses told me in vain hope that the memories of the past few days were just horrible nightmares.

In a few seconds, I darted up the winding wooden stairs that had been carved out of the not-a-tree, and burst onto the upper level. A small, square of wood table sat near the corner with two bamboo chairs; a curtain of vines covered a smaller window. Slightly visible against the opposite wall was a crude doorway propped open with a stick. Desperate to feel the air of the busy village on my skin, I ran out into the open.

Shock flooded me in an instant. Trees surrounded the clearing I was in, and a burned out bonfire lay in the center, surrounded by fallen logs, and stones. "No. No, no, no, no." I shook my head rapidly, praying I was seeing things as my raven hair billowed in the roaring breeze. My storm blue-gray eyes widened in fear, and I dug my nails into my palms. "Wake up, Bree. Wake up!" I begged myself, the thundering clouds above me rumbling in disagreement. Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes, and I took deep breaths to calm them.

"Hello, Trinket. Nice to see you feel well enough to talk again. You gave me a bit of a fright, disappearing, then passing out like that." A teasing voice that was _anything_ but relieved called from behind me. Clenching my fists even tighter, I turned around to see the ever smirking figure of Peter Pan leaning against the tree I had come out of. "You should really know better than to run off, Trinket." He continued, uncrossing his arms, and walking over to me.

"Wh- H- How-" I stuttered, all the questions in my mind trying to pour out at once. Pan arched an eyebrow in amusement, and wiped a stray tear off my cheek with his thumb. "H-how long was out?"

His brilliant emerald eyes flashed to mine, anger brewing in them. I had disturbed his thinking, but I needed to know. I need answers. "Three days. A rather large inconvenience for myself, I must say. But, I won't be letting you wonder off again, so it shouldn't be a problem." He smirked again, and a cold chill shot its way up my spine.

"It's not like I made myself faint on purpose." I growled, crossing my arms against the cold blowing through the deserted camp. "Where is everyone?"

"Where you should be. Training." He snapped back, grabbing my arm roughly, and dragging me with him. I struggled to keep up with his long strides over the uneven terrain.

I bit my tongue so I wouldn't yelp in pain at the tightness in his grip. "What made me pass out? Who was the person that found me? Who did I keep hearing?" Pan stopped abruptly, and I stumbled over a branch that had fallen to the forest floor.

Pan's shoulders were tensed, and he took deep breaths. I bit my lip, hoping I hadn't asked too much, and quickly came to my feet to dust myself off. "Some very powerful magic knocked you out when you ran away... I found you in the cave, and brought you back. Lost Boys have been taking turns guarding you, so I have no idea who you're thinking of." He answered with a clipped tone. I narrowed my eyes. Years of living with my father had taught me to see lies no matter how well hidden, and Peter Pan was a _very _good liar.

"Well," I began as we continued our trek to the training clearing. "Someone must have noticed when I woke up. Who was it? Someone was watching me, and pushed me back down. They told me to take it easy..." I remembered, pulling the reluctant memory to the front of my mind. Pan spun to face me, his emerald eyes a near black shade of green. I stopped myself from walking into his chest, my gaze darting over his features in fear.

"Careful where you tread, Trinket. These are dangerous water you're nearing." Peter warned, taking my hand to teleport us to the edges of the clearing. Apparently, he didn't trust me to not ask any more questions in the time it would have taken us to walk.

* * *

><p>"Well, well, well... The Trinket's finally awake." A voice called once Pan had left me to go correct a few of the younger Boys in their aiming. Rolling my eyes, I kept my arms crossed.<p>

"I have a name." I muttered in annoyance.

"Do tell, lovely?" The cocky Boy grinned, swinging his wooden stave lazily at his side.

"It's Bree. And you? May I have the pleasure of the name of the Boy who's face I'll next ruin?" I arched an eyebrow, keeping my eyes cold, and my voice sharp.

The sandy haired Boy laughed loudly, as if the very notion of a girl hitting him was preposterous. "My name is Andrew." He supplied, giving a considerable amount of confidence to his tone. I scoffed, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Hey, Andrew, c'mon man." A taller, strong looking, African-American boy tapped his shoulder, shaking his head. "Just leave her alone, man. It ain't worth getting in trouble over..." I nodded once in agreement, but Andrew shook off his friend's hand, and lifted his make-shift weapon.

"Come on, Bree. Let's see why Pan hasn't slit your throat in your sleep yet." I gave the taller boy an uneasy glance, but he just shook his head as if telling me to walk away from his crazy friend. Against my better judgement, I found myself stepping forward, and holding my hands up in a boxer's stance. The African-American boy quickly backed up, and a loose circle of bystanders evolved around Andrew and I. "I'll try to go easy on you." Andrew grinned again, and I nearly gagged from the sickly sweetness in his voice.

I felt very familiar eyes burning into my back, but I ignored it. If Peter wanted it to stop, he would stop it in a heartbeat. Obviously Andrew wasn't the only curious Lost Boy on the island. A sharp jab hit my abdomen as my arms had gone slack in my momentary distraction. I cursed under my breath, and deftly blocked the next swing of Andrew's stave with the outer edge of my forearm. Instinct began to kick in from all the fights on the street in my pitiful life, and I ducked under the next swing, bringing myself closer to my opponent. When he tried to hit my head, I lunged to one side, rolling to my feet with my arms loose on either side of me in preparation.

Annoyed, Andrew began to swing faster. I dodged most of his attacks, but he got in a lucky shot, and the wood stabbed my shoulder. I winced, and pressed my palm to the bruising area. It would be sore in the morning, but I had to focus. Andrew swung from the side, but I was ready, and grabbed his weapon with the speed only years of defense can teach. Yanking him forward off balance, I side-stepped at the last second, and sent him sprawling in the dirt. Cheers erupted all around us, and I risked a glance up. Everyone had stopped to watch, including a boy with a frown stuck on his face, and narrowed emerald eyes. Half-hidden in the shadows under one of the thicker trees, Pan watched closely, his eyes not missing a single detail of the tussle.

"You b*tch." Andrew spat, scrapes decorating his palms and cheek from the rough fall. "Who do you think you are, huh?" He shouted.

The question stirred anger in my chest. The name had been hurled at me so many times that it fell on deaf ears. Who was I? I'd show him. I'd make sure he never forgot. "My name is Breeana Nicole DeLune. _That_ is who I think I am." I hissed, venom pouring off my words in rivulets. I was my mother's daughter, the blacksmith's favorite customer, the keeper of the odd family shop, and renounced street-fighter in my village. No one had beaten me since I first started at age nine.

A few murmurs went up, and a few Boys chuckled at the sight of Andrew slack-jawed. Apparently he wasn't used to being beaten like this. He turned red with anger, and ran at me; I jumped to the side. I scrambled to my feet, only to be knocked down again when Andrew leaped onto my back. The air in my lungs left in a rush like the contents of a bucket that was tossed out the window. Boiling hot rage filled me, and I struggled under his surprising weight. After a few seconds, I realized that I wouldn't get him off. Not like this, and not with my hand pinned under me at that painful angle. Again, I let instinct take over, and went limp.

Andrew smirked, chuckling slightly in satisfaction, thinking he had won. I made my breathing sound weak, and small. I threw in a whimper for good measure, and Andrew shifted his weight to take his stave from my grasp. That was my chance. I catapulted to one side, throwing him off, and into the spectators. Energized, I grabbed him by the collar of his cloak, and dragged him to his feet. I shook him roughly. "Think I'm still weak, Lost Boy? You don't know strength. You don't know love, or loss, or pain." I shook him harder once more, wiping the grin off his face as I threw him to the ground with all of my strength. He yelped, and huffed for air.

I yanked my blade out of my boot, holding one of his arms down with my left foot, and the other with my knee. I set the blade against his throat, and narrowed my eyes. "You pathetic little _wretch_." I pressed on the gleaming blade slightly, drawing a red line on his scrawny, tan neck. He squirmed, and I applied more pressure on my foot and knee, making him groan in pain. "You think I'm weak?" I demanded, raising my voice. My raven hair fell about my sweaty face in curtains, and my breath came in great huffs. "Answer me!" I shouted, practically smashing the bones in his arm with the weight of my knee.

"N-No!" Andrew yelped, shaking his head slightly, careful of the blade tucked under his chin.

"You try to f*ck with me again, Lost Boy, and I will show you what _pain_ is." I snarled, tapping the bottom of his chin for emphasis before I let him up. Adrenaline coursed through me, and I felt the strength of every fiber in my being. Andrew scrambled a few feet away before standing up shakily, and backing away in defeat. Claps began to break out. The came slowly, then all at once like a thundering waterfall. I could hear the thumping of my heart in my ears as it nearly burst out of my chest, and felt the cold sweat trailing its way down my toned back.

* * *

><p>"I must say, I'm not disappointed." Pan smirked as everyone dispersed to return to camp. I was still shaking off the adrenaline rush the fight had brought on, and wiped sweat from my forehead on my arm. "You fought well, for a girl."<p>

"Never judge someone before you know them." I advised, dying for a drink of water. We were at the front of the group, leading as Pan always did. I was too tired to care if we were going to the cliffs, the beach, or camp, so long as I could rest once we got there. Felix snickered behind us, shaking his head. I glared at him, and pulled on my fingers to pop the knuckles absently.

"You've proven yourself to be a useful fighter, Trinket..." Pan glanced at me sideways, and I recognized the path leading to the camp from earlier unfolding before us. The clouds from this morning had clung to the sky, but the moon shone full on the gray canvas. I sighed, wishing I could see the stars. To count the stars, the constellations I knew, the open skies. Everything was caged in Neverland, even the stars. Even Pan.

"And?" I prodded, sensing there was more to the statement. Peter just shook his head, the mask falling over his face again. The mask of indifference, of fearlessness, and spite. The faint glimmer of hope I had that he would be more open, and tell me things finally, shattered when that mask appeared on his inhumanly handsome features that had been splashed bone white under the full moon. I sighed again, and stared ahead. Some how the bonfire had re-lit itself, and was steadily building to a lion-worthy roar, crackling proudly under the cover of darkness. Once we reached the edges of camp, the Boys whooped, and ran past us, leaving Pan and I alone in the shadows. Felix brushed past me with a devilish smile, and went to sit on his customary rock near the blaze.

"You need to be more careful of the things you ask..." Peter finally spoke, breaking the deafening silence. "I've given you enough time to learn the rules of the island, Trinket. It's time you start abiding by them, or next time you won't be so lucky."

Taken aback, I cocked my head at him, taking a step back in surprise. "Learn the rules of the island? No one's told me anything about this h*ll hole since I got here! I've been _unconcious_ for _three days_, Pan. What do you want from me?" I snapped, tossing my hands up. He smirked, staring at the fire as he took out his flute.

He mumbled -so quiet I was certain he hadn't meant for me to hear- "I've been asking that question since I found you..."


End file.
